


You're Gonna Be The One That Saves Me

by SweetAsCyanide



Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: A lot of music references, Cutting, M/M, Mentioned Past Character Death, Not as depressing as those tags make it sound, References to Past Drug Use, References to Past Suicide Attempt, Self-Harm, Some of them fairly obscure, Wrong Number AU, kieren centric, sort of slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-15 17:08:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5792899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetAsCyanide/pseuds/SweetAsCyanide
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kieren Walker was living a less than ideal life. His parents are too busy trying to pretend that everything is okay to notice that it really isn’t. His sister isn’t speaking to him. His chances at art school in France have been dashed due to his parent and psychiatrist ordained house arrest. Not to mention that the love of his life is dead and he can’t help but blame himself for it. He can’t seem to do anything right. Not even end his own life. Just when it seems like he’s going to be trapped in his monotonous life forever he gets a text from an unknown number. Who knew that texting back a wrong number could lead to everything changing?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. They Were Born and Then They Lived and Then They Died

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm a bit of a horrible person. Originally this was done for the ITF big bang but life happened--as it's prone to doing--and I ended up not getting finished in time. However, that didn't mean that I didn't want to finish it. I've been slowly plucking away at it since and I've only got the last couple of chapters left to write. I figured maybe if I started posting it (I'll post a chapter every week) then maybe that'll give me enough of a kick to get it all finished up by the time I get to posting those last couple of chapters. I've also got to say a huge, ginormous thanks to Aislin my amazing artist and cheerleader. Without her I don't know that finishing this up would've been even remotely possible. This has not been beta'd so if you see any mistakes please let me know! Now then, I'll stop blathering on and let you get to reading.
> 
> [AislinCeivun on tumblr](aislinceivun.tumblr.com)   
>  [Rebloggable art for _You're Gonna Be the One to Save Me_](http://aislinwithabrush.tumblr.com/post/131147148529/my-itf-big-bang-art-created-for-the-wrong-number)

  
  


He may have felt dead inside, but he didn't have an actual death wish. It wasn't that he felt dead in the literal sense--he wasn't a zombie or anything other ludicrous creature that goes bump in the night--it just felt like his life was lacking in purpose. He didn't have that same drive that it seemed the rest of his peers did. His life was just a song stuck on endless repeat, one that could have started out as a favourite but quickly devolved into something dreaded, the sort of thing that one would only have to hear the first chord of in order to skip. The routine of daily life had simply become too damn routine. He needed something more. He wanted something more. When nothing seemed forthcoming, no divine inspiration, no signs, not even a bloody suggestion from a counselor or teacher, he was left with no other options; he went and created his own something more. And so, long before the incident was ever a thing, Kieren began cutting himself.

It was a bit like constantly trying to paint the perfect picture and always failing. The red starts out as a vibrant splash of colour on pale ivory but then turns to rusty mud. A brilliant spike of pain, so sweet and sharp, dulls like the overused blade it was born from. Lines etched into the lackluster canvas of flesh thrum sluggishly then fade; First to pink then to uneven whispers of white. Scars remain as a reminder of previous attempts at relieving the clawing inside of what could only be referred to as one's soul. Imperfect. Failed paintings that no matter how much gesso and paint it can never quite be washed over. Never snuff out the previous evidence entirely. It's an addiction. This need for release. Escape.....

"Bzzz. Bzzzzzz." Startled out of his 'therapeutic journal writing' Kieren let out a sigh and tossed a glance over at his mobile. While he chewed on the end of his pen he wondered who'd bother with texting him. He had been lying on his stomach on top of his twin sized bed for the past hour trying to fulfill his psychiatrist's request of writing at least a page in his journal everyday. That day he hadn't managed more than half and he still didn't see how writing about about it, essentially reliving those experiences, would help him at all. With a final chomp he threw his pen at his rather ratty looking journal, which also happened to be a most unfortunate shade of green, and picked up his mobile from its den on his plush yellow pillow. The screen flashed an incessant “ **1 New Message** ” at him, not exactly a normal occurrence. He’d never particularly had all that much in the way of friends, never really fit in all that well with his peers. His sister, Jem, used to be his best friend--but she wasn’t speaking to him let alone texting him. Which left exactly no one, to have been attempting to contact him on that particularly rainy summer Monday. With nothing left to do but read the message he flipped open his mobile.

**Unknown Number:**  
_Oasis or The Smiths?_

Right. A wrong number then. A wrong number that wanted to know about his taste in music of all things, because that wasn’t strange at all. Kieren shook his head in disbelief and then answered the stranger. It wasn’t like the distraction wasn’t welcome, and really given the two bands in question the answer was practically automatic. 

**Me:**  
_The Smiths._

After a short pause, Kieren sent off another quick message. It didn’t hurt to ask who the mystery texter was, there was after all the tiniest chance that it was actually someone he knew. It might just be the most teeny tiny chance on the planet but it still existed and he really didn’t want to go back to the dreaded task of journal writing. He was beginning to believe that this journal writing assignment was a sort of punishment for not having any answers or explanations to give during actual sessions.

_Who is this?_

Within a couple minutes Kieren received a response. It looked like he wasn’t the only one eager for a distraction from the rest of the world, or perhaps this unknown number was just that deeply concerned with his music tastes. That must be it. It was a very pressing matter of the utmost importance. With a smile to himself he looked down at his mobile and read the response. 

**Unknown Number:**  
_You've got to be joking. Oasis is the obvious choice._

Great. So it was a wrong number with vastly inferior music tastes to his own. While he definitely didn’t hate Oasis, they were not even remotely on the same level as The Smiths. Sure Morrissey might be a bit of a prick but the music was brilliant, and controversy leads bands to be all the more renowned and such. The Smiths were a part of the reason Oasis even existed in the first place. Kieren couldn’t believe that given that choice someone would honestly pick Oasis, let alone claim that they were the obvious choice. He proceeded to tell the stranger as much. The stranger who wasn’t telling him who they were. Definitely a wrong number. 

**Me:**  
_Obvious to who? The loony?_

Once more it was hardly more than sixty seconds before his phone vibrated with a new message. Someone certainly had some free time on their hands and Kieren highly doubted that they too were under parent and psychiatrist sanctioned house arrest. Perhaps they had just finished their work shift. Perhaps they were just bored out their minds.

**Unknown Number:**  
_Hah. Hah. Because a band that has an entire track where the background consists of cows mooing isn’t barmy?_

Well he wouldn’t exactly call it barmy. It was a political statement. That whole album was, the band wasn’t even allowed to be photographed eating meat during that time. Which might seem a bit extreme, he certainly thought it was, but still one does have to admire the dedication to their art. It didn't matter that "Meat is Murder" certainly wasn’t his favorite Smith’s song, it wasn’t even in his top five, he refused to let absolutely a wrong number know that. 

**Me:**  
_Meat is Murder is brilliant you heathen._

And seriously, I think you’ve got the wrong number, doubt I know anyone that is that big of an Oasis fan, let alone someone who prefers them over the absolute wonder that is The Smiths. 

The response was a bit slower this time. The lull in conversation allowed Kieren’s mind and eyes to wander back over to where his journal lay sprawled out haphazardly on his yellow sheets. It wasn’t something he particularly enjoyed doing, writing that is. He’d always been a firm believer in pictures speaking far more than words. His art let him express himself in a way that words had never been able to. Evidence of this was abundant in his bedroom, the domain of his sleeping, or more frequently, his lack there of. Paintings and drawings were scattered about everywhere the eye could see, covering the majority of the walls, spread out over his desk, a few laying about on the floor. They were mostly renderings of the people that were important to him. His family. Jem. Rick. Rick; dark thoughts lay that way. Thankfully he was saved from winding down that extremely tortuous path by another text message from his mysterious wrong number. 

**Unknown Number:**  
_I can appreciate music that takes a political stance or is intended to make some greater point, but for my own enjoyment I’d rather listen to “Roll With It” than “Bigmouth Strikes Again”._

_You know who this is. ;P_

Sure, Kieren mused, I know exactly who it is, a wrong number that refuses to admit they are wrong--in more ways than one. To quote mystery number's prefered song it was becoming "a bit too much to take". Still at least they were polite in their arguing, compared to how he used to discuss bands with Rick they were playing the part of a bloody angel. A bloody angel with lackluster opinions but nobody's perfect. Kieren decided it was time to turn the tables, or at least see just how abysmal mystery number's taste really was. It might even have the added advantage of getting it across that they really did have the wrong number. 

**Me:**  
_Fine. Blur or The Cure?_

_And no mate. I really don’t._

Another comparatively slow response, but who knew what else mystery number was doing? Kieren certainly didn't. Perhaps he had unknowingly stumbled upon their two favorite bands, and they were struggling to come to a decision, as doubtful as that may be. The seconds ticked on and eventually his mobile buzzed in his hand once more with a new message.

**Unknown Number:**  
_Tough one. I’d say The Cure. Much as I love Blur, there’s just something about The Cure that really resonates with me, you know? “I walk on water and I don’t get wet. I’ve got something you won’t forget.”_

Wow. Kieren stared at the the dim glow of his screen in a state of slight shock, they were actually in agreement. The darker more gothic style and tone of The Cure had always held a sort of seductive appeal. It held within it a sort of relatability for him and always had. Though "Cult Hero" wasn't even remotely his favourite song of theirs. Truth be told he was more of a "lovesong" fan, but that was beside the point. Apparently wrong number did have some taste lurking beneath all of that misguided Oasis worship. With a tiny smirk quirking the corners of his mouth, Kieren tapped out what he thought of as a rather witty response.

**Me:**  
_Good answer. Fancy yourself a cult hero do you? With nothing to lose? Who likes to have music discussions with random wrong numbers?_

This time the reply was almost instantaneous. Or not exactly instantaneous but certainly quite fast, at the very longest a mere forty five seconds had past. His mysterious wrong number must respond well to song quotes modified into questions, or something. 

**Unknown Number:**  
_Well I am ahead of my time. And you will never rule me. ‘Cause I’m all mine._

_This really isn’t Julian is it? Pretty sure he’d never be able to quote back to me early lyrics from The Cure. Shit. Sorry, I’ll leave you to get back to your own imperfect music tastes._

Kieren gave a small smile to his mobile when he read mystery number's response. They sounded like a bit of a prat with their continued quoting of "Cult Hero" lyrics, but given the song that wasn't much of a challenge or a surprise. Finally wrong number had caught on to it being a wrong number. It was a tad bittersweet, since he had rather enjoyed having this fairly mundane conversation with a stranger but he had finally succeeded in convincing them that they did indeed have the wrong number. That was a bit of an accomplishment. He shot off a quick reply and then gave his journal an icy stare, not that the journal particularly cared about the figurative daggers that had been thrown it's way. 

**Me:**  
_No worries, not like I was doing anything important anyway. Clearly this Julian needs to expand his music horizons._

He hadn't expected to get another response, so he was startled when a couple of short buzzes informed him that he had a new message. Kieren supposed that perhaps mystery number had enjoyed their jaunt down music lane as much as he had. Mystery number couldn't really be blamed for that since their ‘Julian’ clearly knew nothing about quality music. Wasn’t that just lovely? He was jealous of a stranger because they had friends. He really needed to get out more. Of course in order for that to happen he’d need to escape his current house arrest situation and his normal ally, Jem, wasn’t going to be much help. Still it wasn’t as if he hadn’t snuck out before. One of the plus sides to having parents that were far too caught up in presenting the image of normalcy to notice just what was going on with their children right beneath their noses. He made plans to visit the cemetery later on, some fresh air would do him some good and he hadn’t visited Rick in a while. But before that could happen he had to look at the latest text from wrong number, fulfill his journal entry quota, and endure dinner with the fam. Fun times all around. He looked down and read mystery strangers parting words.

**Unknown Number:**  
_He really does. I’ve got to run, so sorry again._

Well there went that welcome distraction, even if it had been a distraction loony enough to think that Oasis was superior to The Smiths, Kieren mused. It wasn’t everyday a wrong number decided to question his music tastes, nor had he ever had to try so hard to convince a wrong number that they did in fact have the wrong number. Still it beat going further down the melancholy spiral that his “therapeutic journal writing” always seemed to lead to. Nothing quite like writing about an unsuccessful suicide attempt on oneself to put one in a pleasant mood.

After his clearly unsuccessful suicide attempt his parents were at a bit of a loss. So they did what they thought they were supposed to do, they sent him off to a psychiatrist and then put on false smiles and pretended that it had solved everything. Along with the fake smiles and assurances to the neighbors that they had everything all sorted they proceeded to “spend more time as a family” which boiled down to constantly watching him and waiting for the other shoe to drop. What more could Kieren do than put up with this isolation and play house with his parents? 

He wasn’t going to try it again. After seeing how his family reacted, well, he couldn’t do that to Jem. Even so his parents didn’t believe him. Not that he could could blame them for that, but he could blame them for not seeing, for not understanding, what Rick’s death did to him, especially considering the role he played in Rick’s death. He had loved him. Not simply as a friend, no that would have made everything so much simpler, instead he loved him in the way the ancient poets wrote about, in the way he had only ever dreamed he could love another. The problem was that Rick loved him back. Most people would be overjoyed that the one they loved loved them in return, but most people didn’t have Bill Macy as a father. Bill was the sort to want a man’s man as a son, and his definition of that didn’t include having an artsy boyfriend. Rick had always been the sort to want to make his father proud, to live up to any impossible expectations that had been set for him. Even if that meant living a lie. So Rick ended up shipped off with the military, perhaps that had been his way of coping--with his father and with Kieren--but now Kieren would never know. Joining the military ended up being Rick’s permanent escape from Roarton and all that it held. Rick died and Kieren’s heart died with him. 

When Kieren first heard the news he was blinded to everything but his grief. He went to their cave, their own little escape from the rest of the world, and slit his wrists. Not horizontally, not just for the control and the pleasurable pain, but vertically, slicing through the veins in a valiant effort to kill himself. He had almost succeeded too. All of the doctors had said as much. If his sweet little sister hadn’t found him as quickly as she had he never would have survived. Which is what lead to Jem refusing to speak to him, understandably enough. It’s also what lead to his resolve to keep on going, to not try again, to do what his nutter of a psychiatrist told him to. He would never put his sister through that again, and he certainly wasn’t going to just abandon her to the less than watchful eyes of their parents. It was just a bit hard to make amends with someone when they weren’t talking to you. Despite his resolution to stick around for Jem, Kieren couldn’t bring himself to give up his blade. It seemed like his life kept revolving in circles and he jotted as much down in his journal. The one positive to the whole journal writing thing was that no one but him was actually going to read it, his incoherent babble was his and his alone.

“Kieren? It’s dinner time.” said his mum with a quiet rap of her knuckles on his bedroom door. Well one thing down, now he just had to suffer through dinner and he’d reward himself with a late evening visit to the cemetery.

“Just a minute mum. I’ll be right down.” he replied. Kieren pushed himself up and closed his journal with a quiet but resolute thud. He carried his journal and pen with him as he got up from his bed and then stashed them under a couple of messy charcoal drawings on his desk. It wasn’t likely that anyone would come into his room and try to sneak a peek at it but it gave him more peace of mind to keep it at least moderately out of sight. What was the saying? Out of sight, out of mind and far less likely for anyone else to find? 

Slowly, perhaps dragging his feet just the slightest bit, Kieren made his way downstairs and to the dining room. It was a dimly lit room, with only a few table lamps for light. The walls were painted in a positively neutral shade of beige, with one wall being an almost sage green colour from when his mum decided that they needed an accent wall in the room. He still had no idea what it was supposed to be accenting. Much like the rest of the house the room was filled with odds and ends--masks on the wall, a table pushed back against said wall showcasing some photos and housing some table lamps, a cabinet with collectables, and paintings that looked like they belonged in some little old lady’s cottage--clutter to make it look cozy. His parents were already seated at the table and giving him hollow smiles. Jem rather unsurprisingly was absent. He took his seat at the small circular wooden table and gave his own false smile in return. Dinner had already been dished out onto all of their plates. Looked like tonight it was lamb, mashed potatoes, and broccoli. 

“It’s lamb. Your favourite.” said his father. It was a bit pathetic when the best conversation to be had at dinner was about what food was being eaten, especially considering how often lamb had been on the menu recently. Dressed for work in a dress shirt and burgundy tie his father was clearly still grasping at the straws of normalcy, or what passed for it in their household. Since the incident dinner felt like a bit of a play. Everyone had their roles, their lines that they held to, and once it was over they all applauded themselves at a job well done and went their separate ways. 

“It looks lovely, Mum. Thank you.” Kieren said. He then picked up his knife and fork and began to pick away at his food. What had once been his favourite food now tasted like little more than ash in his mouth. Nevertheless they all had their parts to play, so with a smile his parents began eating as well. Jem was still nowhere to be seen.

The rest of dinner passed with little more to break the silence than the sounds of knives sawing their way through roasted flesh and forks clinking against plates. It could theoretically be considered an improvement from the first dinner they had once he had returned home from the hospital post incident. That night he had walked into the dining room, with his parents already seated and lamb on the table--this would become a fairly common trend. He sat down. They all falsely smiled and chatted about little more than the weather. He forced himself to eat. They all falsey smiled and chatted about how lovely dinner was. He forced himself to swallow a little more. They all falsely smiled and began to chat about some other inane thing when Jem walked in and refused to eat or even sit at the table if he was there. Their parents argued with her. He was more than happy to leave. So with one last false smile he told them it was fine and then went to the safe seclusion of his room. Since that first dinner Jem had been conspicuously absent or conveniently out with friends. That night’s dinner had proved to be no exception. Kieren excused himself from dinner and headed back up the stairs to his bedroom, avoiding the cheery family portraits hanging crookedly on the walls as he went.

There was nothing for him to do but wait. Soon enough he’d hear the tell tale signs of his parents getting ready for bed, footsteps creaking upstairs, water running in the sink, the rustling of covers. Then it was a mere matter of waiting for the faint sounds of snoring to start and he’d be able to get out without a problem. So he waited. And then once the snoring began he creeped out from his bedroom, down the stairs, out the door, and down the street to the cemetery. 

Thankfully the streets were almost entirely empty. Roarton wasn’t a large place and news travelled fast, including the news of his suicide attempt, and while he was never popular he’d become a bit of a social pariah to gawk at since. The gawking was something he’d just as soon do without. He’d never realised how relatively invisible he had been but now he missed it. The way to the cemetery proved blessedly uneventful and he pushed open the iron wrought gates just enough for him to slip inside of the grounds. 

It had seen better days. Not that the cemetery was a total mess exactly, it just wasn’t well maintained. Grass grew wildly and was rampant with weeds, it had weeks since it had last been mowed. Headstones were cracked and worn with the passage of time. The groundskeeper had been non-existent for years--budget cuts of some sort--which left the grieving family members of the dead to do maintenance. Those who visited their dearly departed only really cared about the plot on which they were buried and even then the care was minimal. The odd grave had flowers but most were long wilted. Still, he thought as he maneuvered his way towards the back of the cemetery and one grave in particular, at least it gave him a place to visit Rick. Even if this was Kieren’s first time to Rick’s grave.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to visit. I would’ve come sooner but I just couldn’t. I couldn’t go to an empty grave. I couldn’t face that it was your empty grave. That I even took being buried away from you.” While he could never seem to form the words when it was putting pen to paper, here in a cemetery at his dead boyfriend’s grave he couldn’t stop the words from spilling out of him, not anymore than he could stop the tears from running down his face. “I’m sorry,” Kieren’s voice cracked on the word sorry but profuse apologies seemed like all he could offer. It was a constant litany of I’m sorry’s that then spilled from his mouth. “I’m sorry you left. I’m sorry you felt like you had to leave. I’m sorry I couldn’t have helped you more. I’m sorry you’re father is such a prick. I’m sorry you’re dead. I’m sorry I killed you.” He paused for a moment before continuing on. “I know you’d say it wasn’t my fault. You’d grace me with a smile and sneak me a kiss. You’d say it was your choice. You’d tell me that it’d all work out.” He shakes his head in disbelief. “You always said how it would work out. How after you’d served your time in the military you’re dad wouldn’t be able to help but respect you, even if that meant that you loved me. How I’d go away to art school in Paris and become some famous artist. How we’d live out this perfect life. But none of that happened. None of it worked out and the only person I can bring myself to blame for that is me.” 

“Crack.” Kieren whipped his head around to find the source of the cracking noise only to find a girl about his age in a blue dress and salmon coloured cardigan standing on top of a dried out twig. Just what he needed someone overhearing him having what amounted to little more than an emotional breakdown so the town could have even more to gossip about. He wiped at the corners of his eyes as he stared at the girl, waiting to see what she would do.

“Uhm. Oops?” She offered with a smile but her brown eyes were alight with a sort of mischief. “I swear I didn’t hear anything I wasn’t supposed to, though seems to me you’re being a bit hard on yourself.” She said with her hands poised in fists on her hips. There was a pregnant pause were they just sort of stared at one another, then she lept into action. “Silly me! My name is Amy Dyer, at your service” she said as she stuck her hand in front of his face for him to shake.

“Kieren Walker.” Kieren replied as he grabbed her hand and lightly shook it and with that the girl--Amy--began talking again.  
“I was here visiting my Gran. She doesn’t get much in that way of visitors anymore, though it doesn’t look like many do around these parts,” Amy said with a pointed look to the rest of the cemetery. 

“Budget cuts. The town couldn’t afford to keep on a groundskeeper, the funds were appropriated to the council or something.” He replied in answer to the question she hadn’t asked. “Look I should really get go--” Kieren wasn’t even able to finish making his excuses for leaving before Amy interrupted him.

“There really isn’t anything quite like a cemetery to make you think about your impending demise.” Said Amy. She wandered a few steps away, twirling her skirts about and tugging on her long brown hair as she continued on. “What would you choose for your epitaph? Mine would be: Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage, against the dying of the light.” The last bit was said with dramatic flourish. “Love that poem.” Then she looked at him expectantly. She was a bit of a whirlwind.

“Never thought about it. Just know I want to be cremated. I don’t like the thought of rotting away six feet under in a wooden box, “ said Kieren. It was time for him to head home. “Look. I’ve got to get back.”

“Right. Sure. I understand. Got a lot of being alone to do. Looking at old photos. Relieving the past in minute detail.” She said with only the tiniest tinge of bitterness in her voice. Right, Kieren thought, she had just lost someone close to her too and here he was being a bit of an arse. 

“I’m sorry. I just--”

“Don’t know how to deal?” Amy asked.

“Yes. That. How do you do it?” Kieren couldn’t help but ask. No matter how determined he may be to keep on going he wasn’t sure how to survive through the grief, not like Amy clearly was. 

A smile lit up her face as she said, “I take day trips!”

“Day trips?” Kieren asked in disbelief. He couldn’t see how taking day trips would help, he hardly had the motivation to leave his room anymore.

“Yes dumb-dumb! Day trips! They get you out and about. Some nice fresh air. And well, sometimes it’s nice to see that life still goes on. No matter what else happens, no matter who we lose, life keeps on happening and you can’t just let it pass you by. You need to be out there,” she said while gesturing around wildly, “living it. How about this, tomorrow we meet up at the gate, let’s say around noon, and then we shall go on an adventure!” She looked at him waiting for confirmation, or perhaps just validation of what a wonderful plan she had made. Either way Kieren gave it to her.  
“Yes. That sounds, well it sounds a bit crazy, but it also sounds kind of perfect. “ Kieren told her with a smile.

“Wonderful!” She replied and then skipped over to give him a quick hug. “Well then, I will see you here at the gate tomorrow at noon Kieren Walker!” Before she’s even done speaking she’s off with a wave and a beaming smile. Kieren can’t help but shake his head, he isn’t entirely sure what he’s gotten himself into.

Before leaving the cemetery he goes back to Rick’s grave and tells him a quiet “goodnight,” and then is on his way as well. He doesn’t look back as he passes through the cemetery gates. He does his best not to think about the dead, but to try and see the world around him as a living thing. He tried his best to find evidence that life really does go on and he made his way home. Quietly he walked into the house, sneaked up the stairs to his room and softly closed the door behind him.

For the first time in a long while he went to bed and looked forward to the next day and not just because it meant the end of the current one. Tomorrow he was going on a day trip--adventure--with the esteemed Amy Dyer. He fell asleep with a genuine smile on his face and the faintest glimmer of hope in his heart.


	2. Self-Help Might Help When It Makes Us Laugh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm terribly sorry this ended up being so late--I've been rather busy. On the bright side it means that there will be another chapter posted in only a couple of days! All the chapter titles are based off of songs this one from the song Walking Disasters by The Wombats. On a different tangent making all the bold and italic lines work is sort of a pain in the ass. Oh well. Hope you enjoy!

Kieren woke up to the dulcet tones of Johnny Rotten telling him “You’ll always find me out to lunch. We’re out on lunch.” He haphazardly shot his arm out in an effort to stop the noise that posed a threat to his sleep before he remembered that he had moved the blasted thing to his desk the night before. It was the best way he had yet found to forcibly get himself up in the morning, having his alarm clock as out of reach as possible. Thankfully his parents had already left to work for the day, and Jem was likely out already as well, which left only Kieren to listen to the Sex Pistols go on about being pretty and vacant. 

He dragged himself out of bed, tossed aside the covers in a heap, and stumbled over to his alarm clock which flashed an angry red 11:29 at him. With relish, or as much as he could muster from still being half asleep, he cut off Johnny Rotten mid word and then proceeded to his closet. Most of his clothes were castoffs from his punk rock days as a teen. They’re the sort of clothes that demand attention, the kind of thing you wear when you want others to notice you, not exactly the look he was going for. Anymore he stood out enough just due to the local rumour mill. He pulled out an inconspicuous enough pair of burgundy skinny jeans and threw them on with an old navy coloured sweater and a gray hoodie of his Dad’s. Semi-incognito outfit chosen he snatched up his mobile from his desk and headed downstairs. He made a short stop to the kitchen to grab himself an oatmeal muffin that his Mum kept insisting on buying, then walked over to the front entryway, slipped on his scuffed up black boots, and was out the door.

The jaunt to the gates of the cemetery went by quickly and uneventfully, thankfully enough. Either he was early or she was late, though Kieren doubted that either would be surprising. He paced back and forth and slipped his mobile out of his pocket to check the time. It read 11:57, he was the early one then. Back and forth he paced, his nerves starting to get to him. Would Amy even show? Admittedly she didn’t much seem the type to stand a person up, but it wasn’t like he really knew her either. One lone meeting in a cemetery did not an automatic understanding and deep rooted friendship make.

Kieren worked himself into a bit of a tizzy as he continued to pace, hands tucked away into his pockets, eyes that blearily tracked the cracks in the concrete as he went. He was wound so tightly that he practically jumped a mile when hands appeared from behind him and covered his eyes. 

“Guess who?” A mischievous feminine voice whispered in his ear.

“Shit. Amy, you almost gave me a heart attack.” said Kieren. He turned around and gave her a glare for all he was worth, too bad his glaring tended to look more like an aggravated kitten.

“Psh. Don’t be dramatic. Are we ready for our day trip then?” Amy asked with a twirl of her skirts to punctuate it. Once more her appearance veered into eclectic territory. She wore a teal flowered dress with a vibrant orange belt around her waist, a pink cardigan, and dark espresso coloured boots. It was a look that would probably look horrendous on most people but she pulled it off with an inherent sense of grace and a sly smile.  
“Don’t suppose I get to know where we’re going?” Asked Kieren. 

“Of course not, dumb-dumb, that would ruin the surprise!” Amy proclaimed. 

“Have I mentioned that I’m not a fan of surprises?” Kieren said. With a wry grin on her face Amy grabbed ahold of Kieren’s hand and tugged him down the street. They came to a stop about a half a block later in front of a bus stop. 

“Well this looks lovely, never let me doubt your choice of places to spend the day again.” Said Kieren. 

“Hush. Like a day trip would take place at a bus stop or be close enough to the cemetery to walk to. You will just have to wait a bit longer to see where we’ll end up.” Amy retorted. 

“Right.” Said Kieren as he glanced around unsure of what to do while waiting at a bus stop with an almost stranger to go to some undisclosed place, it sounded like the sort of thing children’s parents were always warning them against. He paced about a bit before Amy broke the slightly awkward reverie of their shared silence.

“So tell me about the mysterious Kieren Walker.” Said Amy, eyes imploring him for some juicy tidbit.

“Not much to tell.” Kieren replied with a small shrug.

“C’mon, everyone’s got a story to tell!” Her proclamation met with an unimpressed look from Kieren. “Fine, let’s start with something easy shall we? Favourite colour?” Asked Amy. 

“Hmm. Blue I suppose.” Kieren said. It was a colour that held such potential, the sort of thing that represented peaceful serenity and icey heartbreak. Blue could be as structured as a snowflake or as tumultuous as the sea. There was always this sense of dichotomy to it that made the colour so appealing to him. He also found it aesthetically pleasing. Kieren figured that turnabout was fair play and asked “And what about you? What is Amy Dyer’s colour of choice?” 

“Probably yellow. It’s such a cheery colour, ya know? I never look at yellow and think ‘well damn, I need to go cry now’ or ‘grrr… I’m an angry little polar bear’ or anything like that. It just makes me smile which is something I think everyone could use more of.” Said Amy. Her answer was surprisingly deep, but fitting nevertheless. She seemed the type to be an optimist, to look for the good rather than dwelling on the bad. Really, she was probably just the sort of thing he could use in his life right then. He was pulled out of his musing by another question. “Hobbies?”

“Uhm, reading, listening to music... art? I like to draw, paint, that sort of thing.” Kieren said as he tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

“Ooooo an arteest. Are you any good?” Amy asked.

“Uh, I guess I’m alright? Not totally terrible at least.” He said with a duck of his head and a bashful look towards the sidewalk. 

“Psh, I’m sure you’re brilliant! You’ll have to show me some time! Do you take requests? Can you draw me? Like one of your french girls?” Asked Amy in rapid and enthusiastic succession. She clapped her hands together excitedly and gave Kieren an expectant stare. Luckily for Kieren the bus pulled up before he really had the chance to answer. 

The doors whooshed open and Amy once more grabbed ahold of Kieren’s wrist and pulled him aboard the bus after her, only letting him go after tugging him down into a seat towards the back of the bus. Seemed like a fairly slow traffic day, or at least time of day for the bus. They were practically the only passengers. There were just a couple of teenagers snogging in the very back seat and an old woman muttering to herself and knitting what looked to be a particularly atrocious cat sweater at the front. 

“So what about you? What does the lovely Amy Dyer like to do when she isn’t hanging out in cemeteries and kidnapping poor unknowing blokes for day trips?” Kieren asked. 

“I’d hardly call you poor and unknowing” she said as she mock punched him in the arm before continuing on, “I’m not really sure yet. I mean I like trying out new things. Ya know, really living? Well as much as one can in this little ‘ole place.” She said with a wry grin and a gesture out the window. “But I don’t think I’ve found my it yet. My calling if you will. Like you with the art thing, I want to have something that I’m passionate about doing, but right now my passion is just being out in the world and doing, seeing, and experiencing as much as I can. It sounds silly, I know.” Amy said as she looked down chagrinned and tucked a few strands of brown hair behind her ear. 

“It doesn’t sound silly, it sounds amazing.” Said Kieren. The two shared a smile and a moment of fond silence before the bus slowed to a stop. “This us?” Asked Kieren.

“Nope, next stop. Okay how about a serious question, I mean it. I don’t know if we can be friends if you answer it wrong.” Amy said with a faux look of extreme seriousness as she pointed her finger at Kieren. 

“Got it. Ask away.” Prompted Kieren.

“Would you rather not have elbows or not have knees? Think carefully, it’s a very important question.” Said Amy with an emphatic nod of her head. 

“You’re right this is a very important question.” Said Kieren. After an intense moment of not so deep thought he continued on, “I think I’d have to go with not having knees, I’d rather waddle about like a strange penguin but still be able to draw.” 

“Wise decision. You have passed the test and can now be deemed worthy of my friendship.” Amy said. She gave him a solemn nod in agreement of his choice just as the brakes squeaked and the bus came to a stop. “We’re here! Come along now.” Amy said as she yet again grabbed ahold of Kieren and tugged him off the bus. He was starting to notice a trend. 

Once they’re off the bus it takes a mere glance around for Kieren to locate exactly where they are. The place looked about the same as he remembered it from being a kid, perhaps a bit more rust and the rides all looking a tad worse for wear, but beyond that from the disgruntled teenagers selling candy floss to the unhappy man being duped by a rigged game of ring toss the local fun faire all looked the same. Kieren remembered the last time he had come here with his family, him and Jem were barely into double digits and excited at the prospect of an amusement park. They dragged their parents excitedly to the rides and then begged with pleading puppy dog eyes for a bit of cash to win a tiger at one of the table games. It was one of the few times he can remember really feeling like their family was an actual family and not just play pretending at what everyone expected the perfect small town family to be. Still he couldn’t believe that this was Amy’s brilliant idea for adventure. “Really, the fun faire?” He asked Amy.

“What? It’s a wonderful place for a day trip! It’s off season so there aren’t as many people about and it’s only a short bus ride away giving us optimal ride time!” Amy said. Well, Kieren couldn’t fault her logic there. As he looked about once more he noted the overall lack of people around. Sure there were couples wandering about and the odd parent chasing down their kid that they could probably benefit from getting a leash for but compared to when he had visited as a kid it was practically a ghost town. Kieren looks back at Amy just as she lights up like a solar flare at the sight of something behind him. It appeared to be one of those horror funhouse type of rides, hidden behind a shabby looking wall. “We have to go on that!” She said as she bounded up to a sign that declared the ride as THE GHOST TRAIN. This ought to be fun Kieren mused as he followed her into the virtually non-existent line for the ride.

As soon as the overly chipper attendant gets them seated in the little car for the ride he can tell just how terrible the ride is going to be, full of cheap scares. Sure enough the odd skeleton jumps out at them as rickety sounds and unearthly moans play over the crackling speakers, though the moaning could be from the couple in the car behind them, Kieren isn’t exactly sure. 

“Ahhh!” Screamed Amy, playing up the scars and jumping up out of her seat as yet another zombie pops up from a plastic tombstone. Her overreactions have elicited the attention of the couple behind them, along with what he’s sure are truly heartfelt glares. 

“Would you knock it off?! People are staring!” Kieren finally asked Amy. The staring was getting to him, he got enough of that on the basis of being that kid who tried but failed to kill himself thank you very much. 

“Let ‘em. I don’t give a shit.” Said Amy, once more jumping and wailing at the sight of a newly lit up skeleton.

“Yeah, I’ve noticed that.” Said Kieren. 

“Why do you give a shit?” Amy asked. Kieren didn’t know how to respond to that. His whole life importance has been placed on being what was expected of him. Even in his rebellious ‘fuck the world’ stage, he was still just playing a part. Now he just wanted to be as far from the pitying stares and whispered words of malice as he could get. He just wanted to avoid causing a fuss.

“Because...Why don’t you?” He finally settled on asking her.

“I used to. Used to care so much about what people thought of me. But now, who cares? Life’s too short to dwell on pleasing other people. Eventually you just have to do what pleases you.” Amy got more impassioned the more she spoke. He got it, he really did, he just didn’t know if he could do that. With a blaring honk and a painful flash of faux headlights they were at the end of the ride and ushered out of their car with a cheery wave and an enthusiastic “Hope you enjoyed your ride!” from the attendant. 

“So now what?” Asked Kieren.

“Why it’s tea time now, dumb-dumb!” Answered Amy with a smile and Kieren found himself once more being led about by her this time in the direction of colourful giant sized tea cups. The tea cups had always been Jem’s favourite and Kieren can’t help but smile as he followed Amy to them. 

She picked the brightest tea cup there, a vibrant yellow one with splotchy pink flowers, because of course she did. Kieren mused that if he did paint her she’d be a wash with colours, vivacious and vibrant. For someone he met in a cemetery she was one of the most alive people he could ever recall meeting.

“C’mon put your back into it!” Said Amy as she leaned heavily against him in an effort to maximize their spinning. He did as asked and they swung back and forth in a blur of colour and laughter. Kieren had to admit that perhaps her notion of a day trip to the fun faire wasn’t such a bad idea, even if they had to hold on to one another to wobble their way off the ride. They were barely back on solid ground and Kieren could tell that Amy was already scouring the place for their next ride.

“Ooooo, We’re going on that one next!” Amy said as she pointed towards a ride entitled 'Daredevil'. He barely hazards it a look before determining that he won’t be going on that one today. No way. 

“No way--I’m not that brave.” Kieren told her. His head shakes vehemently back and forth to emphasize just how much he is not going.

“It’ll be fun! Live a little!” Pleaded Amy. 

“Bzz. Bzzzzt.” Saved by the mobile, though he couldn’t fathom who’d be trying to talk to him now. Shit. Unless one of his parent’s decided to drop by the house and check on him. Kieren hoped that wasn’t the case. He flipped open his mobile and was surprised to see a new message from none other than his mystery wrong number from the day before. 

“You go on ahead, I’ve got to answer this. You can tell me all about how I missed out on the ride of a lifetime afterwards and hold it over me for days, I promise.” Kieren told Amy before peering back down at his mobile to see just what wrong number had to say now. 

“Alright. But you aren’t getting out of it so easily next time!” Said Amy as she skipped off to the ride, which was one of the few that had a bit of a line. 

**Unknown Number:**  
_Hey Smith’s guy. You are a guy aren’t you? Sorry, bit rude of me to presume. Anyway Smith’s person--because I’m quite sure you are indeed a human being--answer me this: I’ve got this friend, let’s just hypothetically call him Julian. He keeps on engaging in some unsavoury behaviour, behaviour I myself once partook in but have been clean of for awhile. I want to help him but I also know that if he doesn’t want the help it won’t do any good, and any time I bring it up with him he immediately shuts me down. I’ve thought about telling his long time girlfriend--who has no idea about him, in the hopes that maybe she’d be able to help out. But if I do that I’m pretty sure Julian will never to talk to me again. So I need an outsider’s opinion and who better than someone I accidently texted and has a decent though slightly questionable taste in music to ask? Should I tell his girlfriend in hopes that he can get his act together--and maybe live a bit longer, or do I take the selfish route and let him continue to mess himself up but still have him in my life?_

Wow. Kieren wasn’t really sure what to do with that. It seemed a bit heavy of a question to be asking someone who was essentially a total stranger, though he supposed that was the point of it all. Sometimes talking to someone who was entirely outside of the circumstance, someone you don’t even really know was less messy than trying to ask for the opinion of those involved. And in this case he wasn’t sure who wrong number would really be able to ask. Right then. Advice giving time. Not that he really had much experience to go off of, the only close friends he’d ever had were Rick--who was dead, Jem--who wasn’t talking to him, and Amy--who he barely knew. Still mystery number had asked so Kieren slowly tapped out a response.

**Me:**  
_You certainly know how to ask the loaded questions don’t you? Honestly, you probably aren’t going to like my answer. I’d say tell the girlfriend if you really think it’ll help. He may hate you for awhile but you could end up saving his life in the long run. And could you really stomach it if you turned a blind eye and his “unsavoury behaviour” ended up seriously hurting him? I guess you’ve just gotta ask yourself what’s more important to you, the short term or the long run?_

_For the record you presumed correctly I am both a human being and male._

It was sort of ironic, him giving advice to try and help save someone’s life when he had failed so miserably at taking his own. But he had gone into it being fully aware of what the outcome--or what he had thought would be the outcome--would be. Perhaps Julian didn’t. Realistically he was probably just living in the moment, looking for the thrill of now and saying fuck the rest. Julian probably wasn’t even taking into consideration how his behaviour was affecting those closest to him, Kieren knew he certainly hadn’t. What was that saying? Something like death doesn’t happen to you it happens to everyone who knew you. It had it’s own cruel point, far sharper than any blade or razor he’d ever used.

Kieren looked around at all the passers bys and spotted Amy, still in line. As if she had sensed him looking at her she turned around and threw him a smile and a wave before turning back to the ride, her excitement evident in the way she bounced in place. He barely knew her and already he couldn’t imagine what the world would be like without her. Well he could but it was a bleak place with desaturated colours and muted tones. 

“Bzzz. Bzzzzt.” Looked like mystery number had replied. Sure enough Kieren’s mobile read **1 New Message**. Time to face the music and see if his reply had been helpful for more than making his thoughts turn melancholy. 

**Unknown Number:**  
_I’m glad my powers of presumption are still up to par._

_Even if your answer isn’t exactly what I’d like to hear it’s what I needed to. Sort of reaffirms what I thought in the first place. So thanks I suppose._

_Besides helping strangers with their problems, what are you up to on this fine day?_

It appeared that Amy wasn’t the only new friend he had gained yesterday. Admittedly Kieren knew even less about mystery number than he did about Amy. At least he knew her favourite colour, her desire to live life to the fullest, her preference for elbows over knees, and had had the fortune of meeting her in person. Still, despite everything else going on in his life things were beginning to look a bit better. He had friends, or at least people he could talk to that weren’t doing so out of obligation or because they were being paid to. The muddled and bleak colours of the world around him were starting to sharpen back into a more vibrant focus, or had at least warmed up to a pleasant french gray. Not wanting to leave mystery number waiting, he tapped out a quick response.

**Me:**  
_Today my friend dragged me to a “day trip” at the the local fun faire. At this particular point in time I’m watching her stand in in line for a ride I wouldn’t dare go on in my wildest dreams. I’m simply not that brave._

_What about you?_

After hitting send he glanced up to see how Amy was moving up in the world, looked like she still had a few more people to go. She still bounced in place. He still couldn’t believe her enthusiasm for a ride that called itself the Daredevil. Hardly a minute passed and he received another response from wrong number. 

**Unknown Number:**  
_A fun faire? Sounds like fun? Just how old are you? I didn’t ask a twelve year old for important life advice did I? Well If I did, you are wise beyond your years kid._

_I’m just tuning a guitar while figuring out the best way to break it to Julian’s girlfriend. Or avoiding it all. Jury’s still out._

Kieren had to stop himself from laughing aloud as he read mystery number’s response. Did he really sound like he was twelve? How many twelve year old’s even texted in real words anymore, shouldn’t that have been a bit of a give away? As he read the bit about tuning guitar’s he couldn’t help but remember that time when he thought it would be cool to learn. His parents had thought learning a musical instrument would be a good hobby so they got him some lessons. His teacher was alright but his fingertips couldn’t handle the abuse. He quit after just three weeks of lessons, and the lessons had only been twice a week. 

**Me:**  
_Twelve? I’m feeling a bit insulted. I haven’t been twelve for over seven years. Or was that just some strange way of trying to ask for my age? In which case I feel reciprocation is necessary so I know I haven’t been speaking to an eloquent dinosaur._

_Guitar tuning huh? That make you a musician? I had tried learning once but gave up after a few weeks, I prefer holding a paintbrush in my fingers to strumming steel strings with them._

Once more after sending off his reply he checked back in on Amy’s status in the line, just in time to see her finally board the ride. She had more bravery in her pinky finger than he had in his whole body. 

“Bzzt. Bzzzzt.” Wrong number had texted back again.

**Unknown Number:**  
_So that makes you all of nineteen? I’ve got eight years on you, not a dinosaur or dodo or any other long extinct thing._

_Sort of? I mean I play, and I’d love it if that were my full time job but I work at a music store. On the weekends I’ll sometimes play at a couple different coffee joints but that’s about it. Paintbrush? You an artist then?_

Just as Kieren was about to tap out his reply he sees the time displayed on his mobile. The numbers show the time as 4:56. Which meant he only had an hour and four minutes to get home in order to make sure his parents didn’t learn that he snuck out. 

“Shit.” Kieren muttered to himself. 

“What are we shitting for?” Asked Amy as she walked toward him with a smile on her face and an adrenalin high in her eyes. 

“I’ve got to get home. I’m sort of under house arrest. If my parents get home and realize I’m not there… well…” Kieren trailed off. 

“Shit. How long have we got to get you home?” Amy asked. 

“About an hour.” He said. 

“Right. That’s doable. Let us rush to the bus!” Exclaimed Amy as she grabbed onto Kieren’s wrist and switfly ran out of the fun faire and to the bus stop. They waited for a few minutes, utilized the time to catch their breaths, when the bus rounded the corner and pulled up to the stop. The doors had barely opened before Amy tugged him onto the bus and into a seat towards the back of the bus. This time they’re the only passengers, no kids making out or strange old ladies knitting to be seen. 

“Thanks.” Said Kieren after they had been seated for a couple of minutes. 

“For what?” She asked.

“For not asking. For being so okay with leaving. For taking me on this day trip with you. For giving me the first day I’ve truly enjoyed in a long while.” Kieren replied. 

“Of course, dumb-dumb. What are friends for?” Said Amy. It was just as simple as that, and Kieren couldn’t believe it. The rest of the bus ride passed in a comfortable silence, until they once more got to the stop where they had first got on. Still in silence they got off the bus and then just hovered for a moment at the stop. 

“Well, I’m off this way.” Amy gestured behind them, the opposite direction that Kieren had to go. 

“And I’m off that way. Thanks again.” Kieren said. 

“Of course!” Amy exclaimed. “And next time I promise it won’t be a trip to the fun faire! We’ll leave that for the time after that.” She told him with a huge smile on her face. Amy then bounded up to him, gave him a tight hug, and then began walking backward in the other direction as she waved to him. With a “See you soon, Kieren Walker!” Amy turned around and made her way back to wherever it was she called home.

“See you around, Amy Dyer!” Kieren called after her before he quickly made his own way back to his home, or current prison--take your pick. He was still on the clock after all. He wasn’t really sure what his parents would do if they found him breaking house arrest. Maybe they would frown and be disappointed and book an additional appointment with his psychiatrist. Maybe they would break and show some real genuine emotion and yell at him about their concern. Maybe they wouldn’t do anything at all. Whatever the outcome he’d just as soon avoid it if he could.

He ran as fast as he could without drawing any suspicion upon himself from anyone else who happened to to be about. People did still jog around here after all, perhaps not often while wearing jeans but still. The houses passed him by in a blur. Once he finally made it to his house he threw open the door only to slam it shut as he laid back against it. He allowed himself to take a couple short breaths before he toed off his boots and slunk back upstairs. Without an ounce of grace Kieren promptly fell onto his bed and only seconds later heard his parents car pull in. 

The rest of the night passed by normally enough. Or what passed in their family as normal. Kieren attempted to write in his journal when he’d much rather draw. He still managed to get words to the page though and kept blade from skin. His mum eventually called him down to dinner. Dinner was unsurprisingly awkward. Conversation was stilted and focused on neutral topics like the weather. There were many false smiles shared. Food was nibbled away at. Kieren eventually excused himself to go to bed. And through it all Jem was still absentee. 

Even so it was all made the more bearable by the new people in his life. Amy. Amy was amazing. So daring and full of life with her favourite colour of yellow and her devil may care attitude. She was the sort of person he sometimes wished he could be. The world just seemed like a kinder and more brilliant place with her in it. She even made the fun faire fun again and that was not the easiest of feats. Who knew what her plans were for their next day trip? Then there was the mystery number. Who asked a stranger for advice and was not in any way shape or form a dinosaur. Who he still hadn’t texted back yet and didn’t know well enough to know what time of night would be inappropriate to respond at. Shit. Well, there was always tomorrow.


	3. Some of Us Wouldn't Be Lying If We Said We Were Trying Too Hard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now back to our regularly scheduled updates! Chapter title is from the song No, Not Now by Hot Hot Heat. This is the chapter were we get into a whole bunch of music references, I'm pretty sure that all the bands are included in the chapter itself but if you've got any questions on the music/lyrics feel free to ask. Once again this chapter is not beta'd so let me know if you see anything I need to fix. Hope you enjoy it!

And so life went on. Kieren’s parents continued on with their belief that everything was quaintly normal in their household. Dinner’s were as awkward and forced as ever. They continued to insist on his therapy sessions, which he continued to insist weren’t necessary and served no function. He did however gain a bit of his freedom back. House arrest was a bit more lax, his mum was thrilled that he had found a friend close to his own age in Amy--though he’d yet to let either of his parents meet her. It wasn’t something he pictured going particularly well. Jem continued to be out of the house as often as possible, she’d joined some local club for something or other. He’d run into Jem maybe twice over the past three weeks. She still had yet to say a word to him, or even really acknowledged his existence. Though perhaps he wasn’t trying as hard to mend their relationship as he should be either. His days mostly consisted of Amy, his new job down at the Legion as a bartender, and mystery number. 

The day after Kieren and Amy’s first day trip to the fun faire, he did indeed text mystery number back. It included an apology for the late reply which segued into a conversation of appropriate versus inappropriate times to text someone--Mystery number argued that it was a text message not a call therefore there was never an inappropriate time, Kieren disagreed. Mystery number became something of a staple in his life over the course of the weeks that followed. They’d texted and shared the odd tidbit about themselves, though never their names. It seemed they both favoured the sense of anonymity it gave them. Or perhaps they just kept forgetting to ask one another and at this point it seemed a bit unorthodox to ask. 

Life looked, well perhaps not up but at least better for Kieren. Even his psychiatrist had said as much. That he seemed to to be doing well, that he had recovered nicely so far, that he had made immeasurable progress already. Of course he hadn’t said that he had still been cutting himself, though the times between had become more and more spaced out. He still craved the feeling of the blade as it sliced through his flesh, the sense of escape and freedom it rendered him, but he needed it less. It wasn’t the only thing that allowed him to survive anymore. Nevertheless he couldn’t break himself of the habit entirely and couldn’t bring himself to let anyone know, it was a secret for him and him alone. 

“She’s a killer queen, Gunpowder, gelatine, dynamite with a laser beam, guaranteed to blow your mind...Anytime.” The music sprung forth from Kieren’s mobile on his desk, where he had thrown it the night before after being told he’d have to work the next day, which meant tonight. Another fun filled night of giving drunks their drinks, listening to their sometimes entertaining problems, and fending off fawning advances from women old enough to be his mum. He hurried over to pick up his mobile, Amy was never a fan of being kept waiting.

“Hello.” He answered his mobile after flipping it open.

“Hello! How are you? How have you been? It’s been ages! I’ve got news to share! We’ve got to get together, are you free tonight? Or are you working? You’re probably working. I’ll just come bother you at work then and pretend to be a customer so we can chat a bit!” Amy’s voice sounded tinny over his speakers but it was no less vivacious.  
“I’ve been okay. We saw each other two days ago. Under what definition does that equate to ages? We aren’t fruit flies.” Kieren said.

“I know dumb-dumb but it feels like ages! So is that a yes on working tonight?” Asked Amy, clearly whatever news she had she couldn’t wait to share.

“Yeah, I wasn’t supposed to but Lisa, the girl who was supposed to be working tonight, had some family emergency or something so I’ve got to pick up her shift.” Replied Kieren. He suspected it wasn’t much of a family emergency so much as it was a club meeting, she belonged to the same group as Jem. If he didn’t know any better he’d call them a bunch of doomsday preppers. 

“You’re too nice sometimes. I’ll see you tonight then, sixish yeah?” Amy asked. 

“Yeah, you know after last time you’ll actually have to order something right?” He asked her.

“That was hardly my fault! Besides you’re my bdff---” Started Amy.

“Best damn friend forever, I know.” Kieren finished for her. She’d been referring to them as that since their second day trip--to the park where he slayed the vicious swarm of ants for her. 

“Good. I’ll talk to you later than!” Said Amy.

“See you later.” He’d barely finished talking before she hung up. Amy had told him before that she hated goodbyes, claimed they were too permanent and had insisted upon only ever saying see you later. That way they’d always meet up again. He figured it had something to do with her Grandmother but didn’t think it was his place to ask. Even when saying see you later she was always a bit off about it, though she could start a conversation out of and about everything and nothing. It was part of her charm, or so she asserted. 

Six was hours away, and he didn’t have to be at work till five which meant he had just over four hours to kill. With a sigh he picked up a half filled sketchbook and a chewed up pencil from his desk and sat back down on his bed to draw. There was something so amazing about being to create an image out of nothing, of being able to project one’s view onto paper and then being able to show it to someone else. He always tried to capture the less obvious sides of people. His mum’s genuine smile, rarely seen outside of the kitchen and never seen aimed at anyone besides the meal of the night. The broken planes of his father’s face when he didn’t have any option but to admit his own confusion, that he didn’t have all the answers. Jem with her icy gray eyes staring defiantly forward and a quirk to her lips like she could take on the world if only given the opportunity. The hard set of Rick’s jaw when he had made up his mind and there was no changing it. Amy bashfully looking away, her cheeks tinged pink, pleased but embarrassed. It wasn’t always people, sometimes it was places or objects. Things that seemed redundant or so commonly used that they became overlooked, they lost their value because they were always there. That’s what made them such a fascinating subject matter. 

But instead of any of that he began to draw a cage. It was an elegant and gilded one, with intricate framework, the sort you’d see in an antique shop and think would make nice decor. With every glide of Kieren’s pencil to the paper it took shape. First the lines were rough, loose, there to get in the basics but not really define it. Then they began to take solid form, bars of metal interwoven with a door locked shut and the key nestled securely on a pillow inside of the cage. It was there but just beyond reach. The cage couldn’t be opened without the key, but the key was the only thing within the cage. Would it be worth it to try and get the key out? Would the challenge be the sort that could be resisted, even if success was virtually ineffectual? Suppose the key could be gotten out from the cage, what then? The cage would be unlocked but there would no longer be anything of value kept within it. His lines grew harsher and more frantic the more he drew. 

“Bzzz. Bzzzt.” The vibration of his mobile knocked him out of his trance like state with the snap of his pencil in his hand. 

“Great.” Kieren muttered to himself as he brushed a hand through his hair, gave his picture a forlorn look and deposited it on the yellow sheets beside him to take a look at his mobile. Most likely it would be mystery number, Amy was far more fond of talking than texting. Something about ruining the authenticity by not being able to hear the other person's voice. He flipped open his mobile and sure enough he had a new message from mystery number.

**Unknown Number:**  
_Soak me to my skin_  
Will you drown me in your sweet submission  
Ends and I begin  
Choke me, smoke the air  
In this citrus-sucking sunshine, I don't care  
You're not all there 

They had started up this game of sorts. Trying to outsmart the other when it came to bands and lyrics. Whoever lost first had to share something about themselves that no one else, or very few other people knew about them. Thus far Kieren had learned that mystery number had an extensive and eclectic taste in music, blamed himself for his mother’s death, had run away from home on six separate occasions, and hated walnuts. In turn Kieren had shared that his family life felt like a front for a bad sit-com, he still sometimes wished that Jem never would've found him, and that he avoided using the colour orange when he painted because it reminded him of Rick. He was winning. And this latest round was definitely his. 

**Me:**  
_Bye Bye Badman by The Stone Roses  
You’ve got to try harder than that. How about this one?_

_Is there something I should say?_  
What am I to do? Have I found a way?  
And in the small hours when I rise  
Honey, hold me tight and say it's just a game. 

Kieren would be the first to admit if mystery number actually knew who The Pale Fountains even are he’d be impressed. They were rather on the obscure side and had only come out with a couple of albums in the 80’s. Still, he had been surprised by mystery number before. It was less than a minute before his mobile informed him that he had a new message.

**Unknown Number:**  
_The Pale Fountains really? Now that’s not a band you hear everyday. Song is (There’s Always)  
Something on My Mind. Bad luck picking a band I actually wrote a paper on once. _

_I am as poor as any_  
you are invincible  
I am in awe  
rest can't help you now  
or the scared creature that waits inside you  
put down the twisting spires  
your flame shatters my darkest hours 

Shit. He didn’t know it. He didn’t have the foggiest idea of what band it was from let alone what song it was, though the lyrics were rather nice. They’d agreed that no outside sources were to be used, just their own memory banks. Right then Kieren’s failed him rather spectacularly. Looked like it was time to share something. He just had to figure out what.

**Me:**  
_Much as it pains me to say it, I haven’t the foggiest. Like the lyrics though, who is it?_

_As far as a fact about me goes? Uhm, I guess I’m terrified of the future. It used to be something I looked forward to, but now it’s all I can do to get by on a day by day basis._

Kieren wondered if that really counted as a fact about himself. It was true though. More so post-incident than it ever had been before. After Rick died he just couldn’t picture a future for himself anymore. Then he couldn’t picture a future for himself at all. Finally his future had become one big question mark. He worked as a bartender. His sister wasn’t talking to him. His family had become even more of a shame than ever. But he had Amy. And mystery number. He just didn’t know what that meant. He just didn’t know where he was supposed to go from there. Once again his mobile vibrated from where it was still clutched inside of his hand informing him of a new message.

**Unknown Number:**  
_Archangel by The Wild Swans_

_I think that’s true for everyone, the future is terrifying. It’s the unknown. It can change at any second and every choice you make in the here and now dictates where that future will end up, but you never really know where that is until you’re already there. Or something like that._

_Your turn._

Kieren wasn’t sure how he’d fluked out and been on the receiving end of a text from mystery number. The guy--they’d both confirmed to being male a ways back--was one of the most insightful people he’d ever talked to. He always seemed to know just what to say. It was almost like words were to mystery number what art was to Kieren. Perhaps that was rather fitting, with mystery number being a musician and all. Still his fear of the future wasn’t something he particularly wanted to dwell on, no matter how universal it might be so he tapped out a response using one of his favourite The Special’s songs. 

**Me:**  
_You know you say some incredibly deep things sometimes and then other times you claim that Oasis is better than The Smiths._

_Some people think they're really clever_  
To smash your head against the wall  
Then they say "you got it my way"  
They really think they know it all 

When he looked up from his mobile his eyes caught on his alarm clock. It was already a quarter past four and his shift started at five. Kieren quickly slipped on a maroon sweater, pocketed his mobile and hurried downstairs. He put on his boots, thanked the powers that be that he didn’t have an actual work uniform and headed out of the empty house to work. He really needed to start paying better attention to the time.

The Legion wasn’t far from his house, then again nothing was particularly far from any other given thing in Roarton, but it was still a twenty minute walk at a fairly brisk pace. Which meant he barely managed to get to work on time. For a local pub it was an alright place, nothing fancy by any stretch, bland beige walls, the odd deer head on the wall, and sturdy wooden tables. But they served alcohol and had places to sit at which was more than enough for the local populace. Pearl, the owner of the pub, gave him a wave as he walked in and took up his place behind the bar. 

Looked like they were in for a slow night. A couple of men sat at one of the far tables discussing the construction of something. A girl sat a few tables over from them impatiently tapping away at her phone, waiting for someone. Other than that it was just him and Pearl. Which meant he had time to check his mobile for mystery numbers response. 

**Unknown Number:**  
_Thanks, we’ve all got our crosses to bear. Though Oasis is still by far superior. ;P_

_Doesn’t Make it Alright by The Specials. Good choice._

_And you with your mass serenade_  
Love everybody, you remember their names  
To them you are a vision  
A dancer in the rain  
To you they're all the same 

There was no way that Kieren would ever agree that Oasis was better. They were good, just not as good. For the sake of not starting up the same argument yet again he let the Oasis comment drop. He quickly fired off a response before dropping his phone down on the counter and scanning the Legion for any new activity.

**Me:**  
_What Does It Take? by Then Jerico. Good song, too easy though._

_How about this one?_

_I'm only sad in a natural way_  
And I enjoy sometimes feeling this way  
The gift you gave is desire  
The match that started my fire 

The pub still remained almost empty. Just the same girl tapping furiously at her phone and the pair of men in the back. Definitely a slow night, at least Amy would be by in a bit. He could admit that he was curious to hear her news, though with her it could be anything ranging from a new skirt to a weekend getaway. Both of those had already happened. His parents hadn’t been particularly thrilled by the weekend getaway but they also weren’t about to tell him no when they had actually been able to note a positive change in him. It helped that his psychiatrist even thought it would be a good idea. Shocker there--his psychiatrist being good for more than asking him how things made him feel and telling him to write in his journal. Kieren figured it must be a slow night for mystery number to as his mobile buzzed again from it’s place on the counter.

**Unknown Number:**  
_The Paris Match by The Style Council. You are by far the most musically informed person I think I’ve ever talked to, especially considering you aren’t even in the business…. Can’t believe I thought you were Julian at first._

_God's good to the humble_  
As the devil is to fools  
Stop looking back in anger  
Cause you can't change the rules  
Believe in where you're going  
But don't lose your yesterdays  
To terrify to cry it's true  
Your life is just a game 

From what mystery number has told him about Julian, he can’t believe that mystery number ever thought he was Julian either. According to mystery number Julian likes fun, a hedonist to the core, he does whatever he wants whenever he wants and damn the consequences. In other words nothing whatsoever like Kieren. He can’t help but be curious as to how Julian’s doing. Withdrawal had to be terrible. Taking Kieren up on his advice Mystery number had ended up telling the girlfriend about Julian’s less that ideal habits. She inturn got Julian to seek out the help he needed in order to quit. Julian had been pissed at mystery number but they were still on speaking terms at least. Kieren was a bit envious of that, it was far more than anything he had with Jem anymore.

**Me:**  
_How is he anyway? Doing any better?_

_A Private Future by Love and Rockets. Haven’t listened to that song in ages._

_You need to make the time, to make your play_  
Between the echo and the ricochet  
No need to wait until the chamber spins  
The dice is loaded, nobody wins 

Kieren stares at his phone as he awaits mystery numbers response. The pub is even emptier than before as the angry phone girl left in a huff a few minutes before. She had likely been stood up. He doesn’t have to wait long before he gets a reply.

**Unknown Number:**  
_Damn. I know I know it. But I can’t think of it right now… It’s a Latin Quarter song isn’t it?_

_He’s doing well enough. Still kind of pissed at me, but we’re back to actually talking about more than the weather so that’s good. The worst of the withdrawal is almost over and he’s survived that. He’s a lucky sort, he’ll pull through._

_Guess it’s my turn to share again huh? Let’s see… I used to sign up for those experimental research gigs in order to make extra cash, most of which went towards drugs._

That had to be one of their longest consecutive back and forth rounds and Kieren was the victor. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride at winning, especially over the musician and self professed music aficionado. Without even having enough time to formulate any kind of response his mobile informed him he had another new message.

**Unknown Number:**  
_How have you been anyway? How’s the bartender job going? I’m sorry I can’t be there to protect your virtue from the prowling masses._

“Boo!” Proclaimed Amy as she popped up in front of Kieren and leaned against the bar. “Who are we talking to?” She asked trying to sneak a peek at his mobile. 

“No one!” Kieren answered, perhaps a tad too quickly. He then stashed his mobile in his pocket and looked innocently at Amy.

“I don’t believe you….” Began Amy with a look of suspicion on her face. She narrowed her eyes into tiny little slits. After a few seconds of starring she gave up and continued on, “But I’ve got news to share so I’ll save the questioning for later!”

“So what’s this news of yours? Did the world finally end? Are the dead wandering about the earth? Do we need to flee to a safe encampment somewhere?” Joked Kieren. 

“No dumb-dumb. Philip finally asked me out!” She told him and then stared at him expectantly. 

“Uh, yay?” Kieren said. “This the guy you’ve been on about lately? The one who is, and I quote, “sweet but even more socially awkward then I am” and does the books for the town council?” Asked Kieren for clarification.

“That’d be the one! He finally asked me on a date, tonight even!” Amy exclaimed. “Now we’ve just got to find a bloke for you! Or is that who you were texting before? Kieren Walker do you have a secret boyfriend that I don’t know about?” Asked Amy with her hands firmly fisted on her hips. 

“No, no boyfriend. If I did I promise you’d be the first to know, but I don’t think I’d even know how to be someone’s boyfriend.” Said Kieren. Truth be told he didn’t know if he could be in a relationship with someone other than Rick. He didn’t know if he even knew how to. But maybe it was time to try and move on, just not with some stranger that Amy set him up with.

“Don’t be silly. You’d make someone a lovely boyfriend, we’ve just gotta find you the right one… Philip has this friend…” She trailed off looking at him with a wicked glint in her eye.

“No Amy, no playing matchmaker.” Kieren said as sternly as he could. 

“But please…? I just want you to be as happy as I am.” Said Amy.

“You haven’t even gone on your first date yet.” He told her.

“Well no, but that’s only in half an hour and I’m sure it’ll be splendid. And if not I’ve got my bartender bdff so console me, so either way I win!” She proclaimed. She did have a bit of a point there. 

“Wait, your date is tonight?” Asked Kieren.

“Yep, yep! He’s going to pick me up here and then we’re going out to eat at some diner.” She beamed at him. It all seemed a bit sudden to Kieren but he was glad to see his friend so insanely happy. Then she turned the puppy dog eyes on him, “So please? Can I try and be wingwoman to my awesome bdff and get him a boyfriend too? Or at least a date?” He could already feel himself caving. 

“Fine. One date. That’s it. And only if your date tonight goes as well as you think it will.” Stated Kieren. He wasn’t entirely sure why he had agreed to it, he already knew it wouldn’t end well.

“Yay! I promise you won’t regret it!” Exclaimed Amy. “Now then, what do you think of my dress, do I look alright?” She asked him as she took a few steps back from the counter and gave him a spin. Her fashion sense was a bit unusual as always but it suited her. That night she wore a pale pink floral dress with a black petticoat underneath and a deeper pink jacket on top. Through it all her excitement for the evening shined through and gave her this sense of radiance. Amy must be nervous, she never much cared to ask for his opinion on her sense of fashion.

“You look beautiful Amy.” Kieren said, and he meant it. She looked wonderful and Philip had better live up to each and every one of her expectations. 

They chatted for a bit after that about inconsequential things. Amy once more tried to glean more information on who Kieren had been texting but her heart wasn’t in it, she was too preoccupied with thought of her date. The couple of men at the back table grumbled at them and their chatter and left. Which meant the place was empty except for the two of them and Pearl in back doing inventory. Just past seven Philip finally arrived and whisked a radiant Amy away for their date. She said a quick “see you later!” and they were out the door. That left Kieren with exactly no one else to keep him company. 

“You can call it a night early if you’d like, dear.” Called out Pearl as she made her way out of the back room. “Looks like we probably won’t get any other customers tonight, no use in you just standing about.” She told him as she began to close up shop.

“Are you sure? You don’t need any help with anything else?” Asked Kieren. 

“Positive. You head on home now and I’ll see you in a couple of days, okay?” Said Pearl as she ushered him out the door with a smile.

“Thanks, see you. Have a good night.” He told her and then proceeded to head out the door. Kieren figured he wouldn’t fight his boss on hanging around to do nothing for the next couple of hours, not that he had any exciting plans at home either. Though he did have a mystery number to text back. 

**Me:**  
_I’ve been pretty good. Boss let me off work early. And though your chivalry is most appreciated there wasn’t anyone for you to fend off. The pub was pretty empty tonight. So feel free to say no, but want to exchange emails and maybe chat a bit tonight? Might be easier than sending all these long texts._

There weren’t many other people walking the streets of Roarton at that time of night. He enjoyed the quiet peacefulness of it. It was a surprisingly clear night, no rain, not even very many clouds. So he leisurely made his way home. He wasn’t in a rush, and his only potential plans for the night hadn’t responded yet. Kieren made it about two blocks from home before his mobile buzzed with a text. 

**Unknown Number:**  
_Sure. I won’t be able to talk for too long tonight though, Julian is coming over. My email is twelfthdisciple@gmail.com (don’t ask)._

With a bit of an added bounce in his step Kieren pocketed his phone and hurried the rest of the way home. It was just past eight which meant his parents had likely already headed off to bed. They went to sleep early and woke up at dawn. He couldn’t really understand it, Kieren had always been more of a night person himself. He quietly toed off his shoes and then swung by the kitchen to grab a bite to eat. He ended up making a simple turkey sandwich and headed on up to his room with it in hand. As he pulled out his laptop he munched away at the sandwich until he had his laptop booted up at his desk and all that remained of his turkey sandwich were crumbs. Quickly he logged into his email and sent mystery number a google chat invite.

**goghfigure:** _Hey_

**twelfthdisciple:** _Hey, I like the username. You a fan of Van Gogh I take it?_

**goghfigure:** _Yeah, he’s always been my favourite._

**goghfigure:** _I love the movement and emotion he was able to capture_

**twelfthdisciple:** _I’ve always been a fan of Starry Night myself, I know cliche right? But still it’s just beautiful_

**twefthdisciple:** _So work was uneventful huh? No reason for me to have to defend your honor?_

**goghfigure:** _Yeah, only had a few people at the pub and one of them was my best friend who was only there to see me anyway_

**goghfigure:** _So no, nothing to defend my honor from_

**goghfigure:** _Bit weird to talk like this isn’t it?_

**twelfthdisciple:** _A bit yeah_

**twelfthdisciple:** _But it’s nice too, a lot less wait time between responses_

**goghfigure:** _This is true_

**goghfigure:** _I have no idea what to talk about now_

**twelfthdisciple:** _lovely weather we’re having?_

**goghfigure:** _Christ not the weather, anything but the weather_

**goghfigure:** _even if it is surprisingly nice_

**twelfthdisciple:** _Got it, no weather talk_

“Bzzz.Bzzzt.” Kieren’s mobile notified him of a text message, which was strange since the only person who he normally texted with he was currently chatting with. 

**Amy:**  
_Guess who’s going on a blind date in two days?_

Kieren groaned to himself. It looked like the date had gone down as Amy had hoped. Which meant he was stuck going on a blind date with some friend of Philip's. Maybe the date would go great, but he wasn’t counting on it. Still he had a duty as best damn friend forever to ask Amy how it went. 

**Me:**  
_I take it the date went well then?_

Mere seconds ticked by before she responded. This really didn’t bode very well for him at all. 

**Amy:**  
_Wonderful! I’ll tell you about it, and your date tomorrow!_

Kieren wanted to bang his head against the wall. Instead he figured he’d type out his frustrations to mystery number. 

**goghfigure:** _Shit_

**twelfthdisciple:** _what?_

**goghfigure:** _I promised Amy--that’d be the best friend--that I’d let her set me up on a blind date if her date tonight went well.. and apparently it did_

**twelfthdisciple:** _oh_

**goghfiure:** _all I get is an oh?_

**goghfigure:** _allegedly her new boyfriend has some guy for me to date. I don’t foresee this ending well_

**twelfthdisciple:** _maybe it’ll go better than you think it will?_

**twelfthdisciple:** _you can always use me as a backup plan_

**goghfigure:** _a backup plan for what exactly, if I need a boyfriend and this bloke doesn’t fit the bill?_

**twelfthdisciple:** _uh sure?_

**twelfthdisciple:** _I meant if you needed an out from your date, like if it’s going badly you text me and then I can call you with some sort of fake emergency. Julian and I used to to do it for each other all the time, admittedly it was usually because of the guys that he set me up with being arses but still_

**goghfigure:** _oh_

**twelfthdisciple:** _now who’s the one only saying oh?_

**goghfigure:** _no_

**goghfigure:** _I mean thanks_

**goghfigure:** _you’d really do that for me?_

**twelfthdisciple:** _of course, what you think I just talk to people I don’t like?_

**twelfthdisciple:** _trust me I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it_

**twelfthdisciple:** _we’re kind of friends aren’t we?_

**goghfigure:** _yes_

**goghfigure:** _at least I think we are_

**twelfthdisciple:** _good enough for me_

**twelfthdisciple:** _just text me moo if you need me to call ;P_

**goghfigure:** _moo really? are we back to the meat is murder thing?_

**twelfthdisciple:** _we’re always back to the meat is murder thing_

**twelfthdisciple:** _I don’t how someone as amazing as you could possibly think that The Smiths is better than Oasis_

**goghfiure:** _uh thanks? You’re not so bad yourself, even if you are a bit of a heathen for thinking that Oasis in any way shape or form is better than The Smiths_

**twelfthdisciple:** _it was a compliment, you aren’t so good at taking them are you?_

**goghfigure:** _much to the chagrin of Amy, no I’m not_

**goghfigure:** _guess I just think I don’t deserve them_

**twelfthdisciple:** _are you crazy? You are a wonderful, brilliant, amazing person, with slightly questionable music tastes and don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise_

**twelfthdisciple:** _got it?_

**goghfigure:** _I_

**goghfigure:** _uh_

**goghfigure:** _yeah_

**goghfigure:** _thank you_

**twelfthdisciple:** _I’d try to convince you more but I’ve actually got to go, Julian just got here_

**twelfthdisciple:** _I’ll talk to you soon though, if for no other reason than to bail you out of a blind date gone awry_

**goghfigure:** _talk to you soon_

**goghfigure:** _thanks again_

**twelfthdisciple:** _:)_

Kieren waited until he saw mystery number leave the chat and then logged himself out and powered down his laptop. Then he got ready for bed on autopilot, his mind focused on what would happen over the next few days. He brushed his teeth, put on his pajamas, turned out his light, and crawled into bed. It looked like he had a date in a couple of days. And planning for said date tomorrow with his best friend--who he was sure would also inform him all about Philip and the date she had had with him. To top that off his already slightly strange relationship with a guy he had never met just got a bit stranger, but in a good way. When had this become his life?


	4. I've Run All the Darkest Races

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're over half way their now! Still not beta'd so if you see any problems please let me know. Art was done by the wonderful Aislin (she is all kinds of amazing), you should go check out her tumblr when you get the chance! Anyway hope you enjoy. :)
> 
> No really go check out her stuff!  
> [AislinCeivun on tumblr](aislinceivun.tumblr.com)
> 
> And my tumblr in case anyone wants to bug me/ask me anything/chat (can't believe I forgot to add a link to it sooner)  
> [CyanideMuse on tumblr](cyanidemuse.tumblr.com)

It was the day of his blind date and to say Kieren was terrified would be an understatement. He hadn’t been on a date in, well, ever. He and Rick just kind of happened. There were no awkward dates involved. A slightly awkward first meeting? Sure. A very awkward first kiss? Definitely. But no awkward dates. Amy had tried to get him pumped up for the date. She’d helped him pick out what to wear, notified him of the meeting place, and gave him as much information as she could about his date to be--which was virtually nothing. All he knew was that the bloke’s name was Henry, he had red hair, and that he’d be wearing a blue shirt. Amy didn’t give him much to go on at all and it didn’t help his nerves out any. On the bright side mystery number had promised that he’d call if Kieren needed him. 

He forced himself to stop thinking about it and instead get ready as if it were any other day. After taking a fast shower he pulled on the clothes Amy had picked out for him the night before, black skinny jeans, a pale gray hooded shirt, and a navy colored jacket. It was a startlingly understated and simple outfit for Amy, but she said it suited him, brought out the warmth of his brown eyes. Kieren stared at his reflection in the mirror and wasn’t entirely sure who the person staring back at him was. His eyes didn’t seem as haunted, the dark circles under his eyes had faded to almost nothing, and his hair was a bit of a mess, as per usual, but there wasn’t much he could do about that. He looked more like a living breathing person than he had in a long time, even before the incident he had looked a bit like a hollow shell of a person with the lifeless eyes of a porcelain doll. Even though he still had a long way to go he was getting better bit by bit. With Amy and mystery numbers help he was starting to get there. He was getting by with a little help from his friends.

“Bzzz. Bzzzt.” He heard his mobile vibrate in his room, and with one last glance at the stranger in the mirror he went to go see who it was, probably mystery number, and what they wanted, he had no idea. Sure enough as he picked up his mobile from his paper cluttered desk it professed to have one new message, and as he flipped it open he was unsurprised to see unknown number on displayed on his screen.

**Unknown Number:**   
_I figure you’re probably freaking out about your date and could use a distraction so how about a riddle?_

_Why did the kid put his head in the piano?_

It was a bit funny how someone who didn’t even know his name could know him so well thought Kieren. Anymore mystery number knew more about him than anyone else, besides perhaps Amy. Kieren felt like he could talk to his mystery number about anything under the sun, good or bad, and mystery number would be there to listen. A riddle though? That was new, and he had no idea what the answer was supposed to be. 

**Me:**   
_Perhaps a bit._

_I haven’t the foggiest. Tell me my mystery number, why did the kid put his head in the piano?_

Kieren flopped down onto his bed, sending his comforter and yellow sheets puffing out. He held his mobile to his chest and stared at the ceiling, trying to make pictures out of the bumps in the paint. He found a gargoyle, a crab, and an ostrich before his mobile alerted him that he had received another text. Careful so as not to drop his mobile on his face he flipped it open and read his mystery number’s latest message. Just when had he started thinking of the mystery number as his? He supposed it was true enough though. Mystery number was one of the few things in his life that he didn’t share, not with his family, definitely not with his psychiatrist, and not even with Amy. 

**Unknown Number:**   
_Don’t be, you’re wonderful and if he can’t see that he’s the one that’s lucky to be on a date with you he is crazy… or blind I suppose in which case he can’t see much of anything at all. What time’s this date of yours at? So I know when I should wait by the telephone with baited breath._

_Your mystery number, huh? Because he wanted to play by ear._

_What do you call a cow that plays a musical instrument? (and I promise the answer isn’t Morrissey)_ w

So mystery number had caught on to the whole ‘mine’ thing. Still it didn’t seem as though it bothered him which Kieren figured was probably a good sign. Mystery number had also called him wonderful. Kieren didn’t think anyone had called him that before. It made him blush a nice bright pink which he was sure stood out in stark contrast to his yellow sheets and gray/blue ensemble. He opted not to dwell on it, or on why such a comment from someone he’d never even met had elicited such a reaction from him, and fired off a response. 

**Me:**   
_That’s...Thank you. You know you’re rather brilliant yourself. I’m supposed to meet him at this local cafe at three. Which seems like kind of a weird time of day to me, but everything about this has been out of my comfort zone. At least I’ve got you._

_Yes. Mine, you are not allowed to be anyone else’s mystery number, so no more texting wrong numbers for you.That’s terrible._

_Again, I have no idea. I’m afraid riddles aren’t my strong suit._

He stared at the ceiling once more. This time like it could tell him the answers to everything in the universe rather than displaying an odd arrangement of animals. Too bad that much like his sister it wasn’t talking to him. Time was ticking away too slowly and yet too quickly at the same time. He wanted to get his date over and done with but at the same time he wasn’t sure he was ready for it either. All he had to go on was a name and hair colour. Not much to go by. According to the internet search he had done last night Henry meant ‘home ruler.’ He wasn’t much sure what to think of that either. It was a common enough name. Normal. His foray into etymology would have to be postponed though as his mobile buzzed once more with a text. 

**Unknown Number:**   
_You’ve definitely got me. ;) And for the record three is a bit odd of a time, even if you are meeting up for a coffee date._

_Don’t think that’ll be much of a problem. I think I can manage to be exclusively your mystery number. But it made you smile didn’t it?_

_a Moo-sician_

_And that’s all I’ve got right now. Besides it’s probably about time for you to start heading out for your date, right? Good luck, though hopefully you won’t need it._

What was he supposed to do with a winky smiley face? What was that even supposed to mean? And the whole agreeing to exclusively be his mystery number, what was that? Probably nothing. He was probably reading more into it than was really there. Amy told him he did that a lot, made something out of nothing. So it was really probably nothing. Right? At least he wasn’t the only one who thought three was a strange time of day for a first date. And not only did mystery number have a slightly off taste in music, he had a terrible taste in riddles. Mystery number was right though, it was about time for him to leave.

**Me:**   
_Thanks. For everything. Feels like I tell you that an awful lot, but I mean it._

_Yes it made me smile._

_You’re joking… I think that’s even worse than the other one._

_Thanks again, I’m sure I’ll talk to you soon enough._

And he was. If the date went well, doubtful, then he’d be texting with mystery number of the good news. If it went terribly, more likely, then he’d be sending mystery number the code word--moo--and talking to him over his mobile. The thought of actually speaking to mystery number had him almost wanting the date to go badly. Almost. 

He wriggled his mobile into the front right pocket of his black skinny jeans and then forced himself to get back up out of his bed. It took far more effort than he’d like to admit to force himself to get up. With a sigh he brushed his hand through his, now even more unruly than before, hair and wandered down the stairs. Yet again no one was at home. Surprise, surprise. His parents were at work, it seemed that was all they ever did anymore. Jem was wherever she deemed to spend her time during the day. Without anyone to say bye to Kieren put on his boots, headed out the door, and locked up the empty house behind him. 

Like practically everything in Roarton, the cafe was within walking distance. The joys of small town living. It was maybe a fifteen minute walk at a slow pace, a glacially slow pace. However Kieren’s nerves had the best of him so it took him less than ten. He wasn’t exactly sure who had chosen this particularly cafe but the name Whole Latte Love seemed a bit much. It didn’t help that the whole place oozed perky and cute. There was a reason he’d never come here before. Even the inside was bright and warm. The walls were a vibrant orange and all the tables had been painted to match. The window dressings were a virulent shade of red and the floor covered in sunny yellow tile. Pictures of flowers and cats lined the walls. The owner may have been aiming for cute and inviting but instead the place felt overbearing. Kieren didn’t think he was quite happy enough of a person to be here. Then again he didn’t know that anyone was. The barista welcomed him with a perky wave and a smile framed by bubblegum lips. 

“Hiya! Can I get you anything?” Asked the bubbly barista whose name tag announced her as Cherie. 

“I uh-” Started Kieren.

“Great, you’re here! Kieren right? Would you mind getting mine too? I forgot my wallet at home if you can believe it.” Said the guy who Kieren figured must be Henry. He had the red hair and blue shirt that Amy said he would. Henry looked young. Like his sister’s age. Which just felt a bit weird and kind of wrong. Even if it wasn’t that huge of an age gap it certainly felt like it. Why exactly had Amy thought this would be a good idea?

“Henry is it? Sure, order what you’d like.” Kieren said. He wasn’t really sure how else to respond. What was he supposed to do, start off the date by telling the guy he wouldn’t buy him coffee?

“Great, thanks! I’ll have a large chai latte, skim milk, lite water, no foam, and extra hot.” Said Henry. What the hell had Amy gotten him into?

“Uhm, Right.” Said Cherie the barista, his order was enough to even make her mega watt smile dim a bit. “And for you sir?” She asked Kieren.

“Medium black coffee with two cream.” He said. The barista looked relieved by how simple his order was. 

“Anything else for either of you?” Cherie asked.

“No. No, thank you.” Kieren cut in before Henry could ask for any other overly complicated order.

“That’ll be 5.80, please.” She told Kieren, smile still glued onto her face. He fished his wallet out of his pocket and handed her his card. “Would you like a receipt?” She asked as she handed him back his card.

“No, I’m good thanks.” Kieren replied.

“Okay, I’ll have both of those right out!” She told them, then turned away to start making whatever the monstrosity Henry had ordered was. Henry who had already wandered off to a table in the far corner of the cafe without saying anything to him. At all. Kieren walked over to the table and sat down across from him.

“You know you and your sister don’t look much alike.” Said Henry. Odd choice of a starting topic for someone you were just meeting.

“Ah, no. I don’t suppose we do. Amy said you’re a friend of Philip’s?” Asked Kieren.

“Yeah, I guess? I mean, he’s more of a tutor than a friend. I’m awful at maths. Seriously awful. Mum got Philip to try and help me make sense of it all.” Henry said with a shrug. After a few beats of silently staring at each other he went on to ask, “Is your sister really a part of the same club as Gary?” So he wasn’t even really a friend of Philip's, more like an acquaintance who was pants at maths. Great.

“Yeah, I guess. We haven’t been getting on the greatest lately.” Said Kieren. He tried to steer the conversation away from his sister by asking, “So what do you like to do for fun?”

“Hang out with my mates, I suppose. I like video games. Reading--when it’s not for school anyway.” Replied Henry. Well that answered that question thought Kieren. Admittedly he’d only been out of school for a couple years himself but he wasn’t sure how much he’d have in common with a kid still in high school.

“Awesome. I mostly like to make to art, drawing, painting, that sort of thing...And music, I’m a bit of a music freak.” Said Kieren.

“Yeah? Cool.” Henry said with a nod of his head. “Is Jem into that sort of thing too?” He asked. Thankfully the barista called out that their drinks were done so he was saved from having to respond. Of course his ‘date’ didn’t even make a motion to move. Just stared blankly at him, still waiting for a response.

“I’ll just go grab those then, shall I?” Asked Kieren. He didn’t bother to wait for a reply, just pushed himself up from the table and walked over to the counter. 

“Awkward first date?” Asked the barista as she handed Kieren their drinks with a sympathetic smile. 

“You could say that.” Said Kieren.

“Well, give him a shot. He’s probably just nervous!” She said. She offered him a wink and a smile and then went back to the coffee equipment. He was trying to give Henry a shot. He really, really was. All the questions about Jem seemed a bit much, but maybe they knew each other from school and Henry was just trying to talk about something he knew they had in common. It was a possibility at any rate. He walked back over to their table and handed Henry his drink as he sat back down. 

“So you never did say what Jem was into.” Said Henry. He didn’t give Kieren so much as a thank you before going back to talking about his sister.

“Honestly, I couldn’t even tell you anymore. You and Jem go to school together?” Asked Kieren. It was worth a shot. Though he was pretty sure mystery number would be receiving a moo in no time.

“Oh…. Yeah, we’ve got a couple of classes together. She’s pretty amazing ya know?” Henry said with this look of hero-worship in his eyes. He paused for a moment, not looking at any one thing in particular before going on, “I mean she may not be the smartest person but she thinks about things in a way I’d never have thought about. And she’s so strong. Not, like, physically, though I’m sure she is, but mentally. With everything that’s gone on with her family it’s just kind of amazing. I’ve tried to talk to her before but I always seem to choke up. And her eyes… They’re like staring into shards of ice crystals. Gorgeous.” Sighed Henry.

“You are aware that you’re on a date with her brother right now aren’t you?” Asked Kieren. He’d pretty much reached his breaking point. There was only so much he could take of his date doting on his sister. 

“What? Yeah I know, what’s that got to do with anything?” Asked Henry.

“Nothing. You were saying?” Kieren asked. From under the table he snuck out his phone and then tapped out a quick moo to mystery number. That moo was quickly followed by another mooooo and another, as he continued to listen to Henry dote on Jem. 

“I just don’t even get how she can exist you know? She’s just so perfect. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I had found someone I loved in the condition she found you in. I mean that’s gotta be tough right?” Said Henry. Kieren was well beyond his limit. Yes his sister was impressive. Yes she was strong. Yes she had been the one to find him. But his sister was not a bloody saint. A saint would’ve at least talked to him by now. 

“Cos all of the stars are fading away, try not to worry you’ll see them some day, take what you need and be on your way, and stop cr--” Kieren picked up his mobile mid ring from where it had mercifully interrupted Henry. 

“Hello?” Said Kieren as he answered his mobile.

“Hey, based off all the moos I’m guessing the date isn’t going so well.?” Asked mystery number.

“Hey, I’m so sorry but I’ve got to take this.” Kieren told Henry before he got up from the table and paced a few feet away.

“What is it?” Kieren loudly asked before quietly tacking on, “No, not going well at all.” 

“I’m sorry.” Mystery number said, sounding not entirely convincing. He then went on to add, “That sucks. Look just pretend I’ve told you some terrible news and that you have some sort of family emergency or something and that you need to leave now. Okay? I’ll stay on the line with you the entire time.”

“What’s that Aunt Agnes? Little Timmy fell in the well?! Is he going to be alright?!” Exclaimed Kieren. He figured he may as well put on a bit of a show, besides this wouldn’t work if Henry didn’t think he needed to go right away. Kieren walked back over to the table, muffled the sounds of mystery number laughing by holding his mobile to his shoulder and with faux sincerity told Henry, “I’m so sorry, but there’s been a family emergency and I’ve got to go immediately. It was lovely meeting you, and I’m sure Jem would love to hear from you some time soon.” Kieren didn’t allow enough time for Henry to formulate a response before he fled the cafe, almost knocking over a sign that said thanks a latte, come again on his way out.

“Hey, thanks for that.” He said as he lifted his mobile back up to his ear and briskly walked down the street for about a block--putting some much needed space between himself and Henry--before continuing on aimlessly down the street. He simply wasn’t ready yet to go home.

“No problem. Did you seriously just use the plot of Lassie as your fake emergency?” Asked mystery number, still laughing. Kieren had to admit that mystery number did have a nice laugh.

“What? It was the first thing I thought of okay? And I just needed to get the hell out of there.” Said Kieren.

“So it really was that bad, then? What happened?” Asked mystery number.

“It was really that bad.” Said Kieren. With a drawn out sigh he began to inform mystery number of the woes of his blind date, “To start with the kid--yeah I know I'm only 19 but this guy was younger than my sister--wasn't really a friend of Philip's. He was some kid Philip tutored because he's awful at maths. He had to ask me to buy him coffee because he forgot his wallet. Which, okay, that wasn't a huge problem, people forget things all the time and it was just a coffee right? No, he orders this monstrosity of a thing that dimmed the smile of even the bubbliest barista in the world. Then he couldn't stop talking about my sister. How wonderful she is. How gorgeous her eyes are. How strong she is for having been the one to find me. I even asked him if he knew he was on a date with me and you know what he said?” Asked Kieren. 

“What?” Mystery number asked.

“That yeah he knew and what did that have to do with anything, before he once more began toting the various virtues of my sister at me. My kid sister who won't even talk to me.” Said Kieren. He kicked at the sidewalk as he passed by a small corner store.

“I can see now why I recieved an entire cow herds worth of moos. Sorry about your date, and about your sister. I know how hard it can be when someone won't talk to you.” Said mystery number. Kieren mused that mystery number probably did have a fairly good idea of what that felt like, though admittedly due to different circumstances. 

“And to top it all off the cafe was named Whole Latte Love and was distressingly cheerful.” Kieren said with an exasperated huff. There was a distinct pause over the line before Kieren ventured a, “Hello?”

“Hey, yeah I'm here.” Said mystery numer after a lengthy pause. There was another pause before he continued on with, “You live in Roarton?” What were the odds that his mystery wrong number would've even heard of Roarton let alone know it well enough to know one of it's local cafes? Kieren was a bit mystified.

“Uhm, yeah. You know of it? Of course you know of it or you wouldn't have asked.” Said Kieren feeling a bit stupid as he answered his own question in the process.

“Yeah, I actually live in the city over, it’s about a twenty minute drive from the city border to the heart of Roarton. I had a friend who lived there that I’d visit in the summer, haven’t been in a while though.” Replied Mystery number. 

“Oh, uh, small world then?” Asked Kieren, he couldn’t believe just how small it kept turning out to be. His blind date was practically in love with his sister and now his mystery number was little more than twenty minutes away. It was startlingly close by, not that it made a difference or anything, just an odd coincidence.

“Yes, it really is.” Said mystery number. There was another drawn out pause.

“Bit weird to be able to actually talk like this isn’t it?” Asked Kieren, searching for a way to break the awkward lull that had come over them. Apparently his wrong number wasn’t overjoyed at the prospect of them living so close to one another. He wasn’t quite sure what he should make of that.

“A bit. You sound different than I was expecting--not that that’s a bad thing, you have a lovely voice--just thought you’d sound younger I suppose?” Mystery number said.

“Uhm, thanks? I think? You don’t sound so bad yourself.” Retorted a bemused Kieren.

“It was a compliment. And thank you. So what are you up to now that your date didn’t pan out?” Asked mystery number. Right. All back to normal then. 

“Avoiding my wreck of a homelife and by best friend who clearly has shit taste in men, or at least a shit taste in the blokes she’s trying to set me up with. I think it’s that sort of couple syndrome. She’s all enthused and such now that she’s got Philip and so she wants to spread the wealth, so to speak, and find someone for me. I appreciate the thought, I do, I just know that there’s anyone left out there for me.” Said Kieren. 

“I have a hard time believing that but it sounds like there’s a story there.” Said mystery number.

“Yeah… I…” Trailed off Kieren.

“You don’t have to tell me about it if you don’t want to.” Said mystery number in a softly spoken voice.

“No, I just haven’t even really told Amy about him. I don’t even know where to start anymore.” Replied Kieren. He wasn’t entirely sure why but he actually wanted to tell mystery number about Rick. Somehow mystery number had become the one person in the world that he felt like he could say literally anything to and he’d understand. 

“Well, I’ve heard that the beginning is usually a good place, though sometimes people like to start in the middle where all the action is and then lead back up.” Said mystery number in a deadpan voice.

“Smartass. Rick and I had been friends from a young age. We didn’t even get on the greatest at first but then one day in class Gary was being a total prick as per usual and Rick came to my rescue. We didn’t become friends right off the bat after that, ours was never the fairytale sort of story. But he kept on showing up to save me and defend me, even when I’d really rather he hadn’t, and eventually it was just easier to be friends.” Said Kieren. It’s not like his past with Rick had been all bad, if it had perhaps he wouldn’t have fallen for Rick in the first place. Still there was no point dwelling on the what ifs now.

“Sounds like he was a great guy.” Mystery number said.

“He really was.” Replied Kieren with a smile. A moment later his smile dropped and he continued on, “Too bad his father isn’t. You have to understand Rick’s father was always a believer that Rick should be a man in every cliche sense of the word. So when Rick and I’s friendship turned into something more, we hid it.” Kieren was quiet for a moment. Thoughtful. “It’s funny. Most people, all they want is for the person that they love to love them in return but for Rick and I that was our curse. Or my curse at any rate. We were going to run away together, I would go and study art. Rick would find something to do with his hands, he’d always enjoyed manual labour. But instead he enlisted and was shipped off with the army. I know he did it because of me, or rather because by loving me he was something his father would never approve of and Rick was always desperate for his father’s approval. So it’s my fault that now he’s dead. I may not have been the one to set off the bomb but I sure as hell am the reason he’s dead.” Said Kieren voice wavering with emotion and tears sliding down his face. He ignored the concerned looks passers by were giving him as he furiously walked toward the park. His feet had been leading him to the park where he had first met Rick without him being consciously aware of it. There was little more for him to do than wait for the inevitable ‘it’s not your fault’ to be thrown his way. 

“Were you the one who told him to enlist?” Asked mystery number. That wasn’t what Kieren had expected as a response, not in the slightest.

“Well, no. I mean if he had told me he wanted to of course I would have supported him. I might have begged him to reconsider but he was always the stubborn sort.” Said Kieren, more than just a tad confused by mystery number’s line of questioning. The park was empty, or near enough. It was a bit sad of a place to be called a park, little more than a couple of swings and a slide. Still it served it’s purpose. He meandered his way over to the abandoned swing set.

“Mmhmm, and were you the one that decided that he’d rather run off to the army to maybe make his father proud rather than run off with the love of your life to make yourself happy?” Asked mystery number.

“No. But--” Started Kieren.

“That’s just it though. There is no but. He made his own decisions. Are you going to hold those decisions against him?” Mystery number questioned.

“No. Even if I haven’t always agreed with him, I’ve always understood where he was coming from.” Said Kieren as he slumped down into the seat of the swing. The chains groaned under his weight.

“Then what gives you any right to blame yourself? By blaming yourself you’re taking away from the choices that Rick made. You’re taking his, perhaps misguided, bravery and diminishing it.” Said mystery number, as if it were that matter of fact, that black and white. Maybe it was. But if it was what did that mean? 

“I don’t… I never meant to…” Kieren trailed off.

“I know. And sorry, maybe I’m being harsh but simply telling someone that something isn’t their fault isn’t going to do shit. Sometimes no one’s to blame, sometimes the blame has got to be shared.” Said mystery number.

“You sound like you’ve got some experience yourself.” Replied Kieren.

“Yeah, I’ve told you about my mum before right? There’re some days where I still blame myself, or at least still want to. Even if I wasn’t the one who killed her I was still a contributing factor to her death. But the truth is we’re all contributing factors to someone else’s tragedy. That’s life. We all are also contributing factors to someone else’s best moments.” Mystery number replied.

“You know for a man whose music tastes are occasionally shit you can be incredibly wise.” Said Kieren as he slowly swung himself back and forth, feet dragging tracks across the ground. 

“I’m going to ignore that first bit and thank you for the last half. Don’t know that I’d consider myself all that wise though.” Said mystery number.

“Psh, you’re wise. Just accept it.” Retorted Kieren. “Thank you.” He said after a bit of a pause.

“I didn’t do anything but you’re welcome. I’m always here to listen.” Mystery number said.

“You’ve done far more than you know, and accomplished way more with me in one conversation over the phone than my psychiatrist has in the past two months. On that note I think I’m about talked out for the night, so I’ll talk to you tomorrow okay?” Said Kieren.

“Of course, talk to you tomorrow.. and when you talk to your best friend don’t let her go too easy.” Said mystery number.

“Never.” Kieren said with a smirk. “Bye.” 

“Bye.” Responded mystery number. There was the sound of faint breathing over the line before mystery number began talking again, “We aren’t doing the whole ‘you hang up’ ‘no, you hang up’ thing are we? Because that feels just a bit too tweenage girl for two relatively grown men.”

“No. I’ll hang up.” Said Kieren with a laugh.

“You should really laugh more often, it suits you. Goodbye.” Said mystery number.

“B-bye.” Kieren stammered out before quickly ending the call. He flipped his phone closed and stared at it with a pale pink flush staining his cheeks. Right then. That had been enough of an emotional rollercoaster for one day. Time to head home. He pushed himself off of the old swing set, a squeaky creak bidding him farewell and then let his feet lead him to his house. 

Mind stuck in overdrive Kieren quietly entered his house. He didn’t much feel like an awkward dinner with his parents. So he toed off his boots and then crept up the stairs and into his room. Once there he flopped down on his bed and stared blankly at the ceiling. He still couldn’t quite believe he’d told his mystery number about Rick. He hadn’t been lying when he had said it was something he never talked to Amy about. She knew the bare bones of the story but it was never something they’d discussed, it was never something he’d wanted to tell her about. With mystery number it had all been so easy to say. To let the words just spill out of him. Even so he didn’t carry his story any further. He didn’t tell mystery number how losing Rick led Kieren to believe that his own life hadn’t been worth living anymore. He didn’t say just why it was that his sister hadn’t spoken to him in so long that he could barely remember what her voice even sounded like anymore. He didn’t utter a word about the blade he’d sometimes caress the delicate skin of his wrist or inner thigh with because he still wasn’t sure how to survive without it. But the odd thing was, he could see himself talking to mystery number about it. He still didn’t even know the guys name. He wasn’t sure what to make of his life anymore.

One thing he knew for certain was that he wasn’t going to be calling Amy that night. He still needed more time to process it and he’d had enough emotional conversation for the night. Kieren wasn’t sure when the last time was that he’d felt this emotionally wrung out. It didn’t help that the date had been so bloody awful that he didn’t even know what to tell Amy. He didn’t want to hurt her by saying how spectacularly her blind date idea had failed, but also didn’t need her trying to set him up again. Tomorrow. He decided he could deal with Amy tomorrow. 

“Bzzz. Bzzz.” His mobile vibrated in his pocket. Carefully--he’d dropped his mobile on his face before and it wasn’t something he’d like to repeat--he slid his mobile from his pocket only to see **1 New Message** displayed on the screen when he flipped it open.

**Unknown Number:**   
_I know you probably don’t want to talk anymore but I just wanted to tell you not to get too caught up in that head of yours. I know it’s a bit different from our usual fare and I don’t expect any response tonight but here:_

_So I told them all I could about what could they expect_  
But I lost my sense of smell and I gained myself respect  
They told me I was curious I told them they were slow  
They asked me where I get this stuff I told them I don't know 

He couldn’t keep the smile off his face. The Fratelli’s hmmm? It definitely wasn’t their usual music choice, it was far too modern for that. Still it was sweet, even if it was an odd choice of song. He wasn’t exactly looking to be lied to. Mystery number was quickly becoming his favourite person alive--excluding Amy. Though to be honest mystery number was edging out Amy for that top spot. Kieren couldn’t even imagine what his life would be like without this person that he’d never even met. He couldn’t imagine not having mystery number to trade quips and obscure song lyrics with. It almost scared him how dependent he was, how much he needed this person whose name he didn’t even know. Even if wrong number had said he didn’t have to he couldn’t help sending off a quick response.

**Me:**   
_Say what you want to say what you will_  
Write your number on my telephone bill  
Walk like a monkey kick like a mule  
I could be your beggar but I'd rather be just as cruel 

Smile still locked onto his face he flipped his mobile shut and dropped it beside him on his bed. He lacked the motivation to get up and get properly ready for bed so he just shucked off his jeans and slid beneath his yellow sheets. The excitement of the day had done him in. The realization of just how much he needed and thought about his mystery number was a bit unsettling and he wasn’t looking forward to telling Amy about how badly his date had gone tomorrow. Nevertheless, Kieren’s life was truly becoming something that he looked forward to living.


End file.
